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"Be Just and" Fear not-Let ail the Ends thou Ainis't at, be thy Country's, thy God's and Truth's " THE TRUE SOUTHRON, Established Jaae, I860 SUMTES, S. O., TUESDAY, JANUARY 49 1887. New Series-Yol. TI. No. Cjjt M^mau m? ^m??xmi PtL?liS??d QYcry Tuesday, BY . Gr. OSTEEN, .SUMTKK, S. G. r?ftMS: Two Dollars per annum?io advance. A C V IC ? S M ? TS . >Qe Square, ?rs? insertion.Si 00 Sverv subsequent insertion. 50 Contracts for three months, or longer wilt De made at reduced rates. All communications which subserve private ?terests will be charged for *s advertisements. Obituaries aid tributes of respect will be cfearged; feri. CeTTOS BATT?fc SATTRESSES. TTTHERS WE SPEND ALMOST HALF; W of our lifesfaouid be made a? comfort ^b^ ; ?s .possible,, and for the purpose of aiding this good work, and making: some money, we now offer the best COTTON BAT TING MATTRESS ever put upon this market. Three, grades now made?S5.00, $6.00. S7.00 Sample and full information at Store of Treasurer, A. Moses. ^Satisfaction guaranteed in every case, or mocev refunded. S?MTER COTTON MILLS WELG" & SASON. Family Grocers. "185 and 187 Meeting, and 117 Market Sts. CHARLESTON, S. C , Invite attention to :he follow ing BARGAINS. CUT LOAF SUGAR. 14* lbs- for S - j GRANULATED SUGAR, 15* lbs. for Si. j CONFECTION EE'S SCGAU," loi ibs. for ?1 i WHITE EX. C. SUGAR. 17 ibs/for $!. LiGBTBROWN SUGAR, 19 lbs. for ?1. j GOOD-BROWN-S?GAR, 20 ibs. for $1. 2 lb. TOMATO ES 90.'cts. a dozen. 3 lb. TOMATOES, SI.10 a dosen. GOOD SEGA RS, $1 for a box of 50. ? ? These are oniy a few of the many attrv j tions we are cocstaatly opening, and In-:-. keepers wili find it greatly to their adraut? ! to'send for a copy of our monthly Price Lt j consult it always. Ko charge for packing or drayage. G. BART 100, Importers and W holesale Dealers ?n FRUIT CHARLESTON. S. C, Are receiving by steamer and raii froniie North and West full supplies each week of CSOICE APPLES. PEARS. LEMONS. G TATOES, CABBAGES. ONIONS, NUI | OF ALL KINDS, Etc., Etc. ' ! _?Sy*Orders solicited ana promptly filled. Nov 9 ______ ! IMPORTANT TO BOHSEKEEPES! j I HAVE OPENED A GREEN GROCEI-f! ON LIBERTY STREET, NEAR MAI j I wiii keep constantly on hand Fresh Tennessee Bef? j PORK, TEAL, MUTTON", AX j SAUSAGES. j Give me a call and save time and mon. ! Goods delivered free. I. O. WjESTOX, Nov. 9 ii Sirmter, S., j FALL AND WINTE i MILLINER! | Are prepared to furnish their friend and patrons with Trimmed and Uutriaed I HATS AND BONNETS j FEATHERS, FLOWERS. RIB30XS, c, I in great variety. j ZEPHYRS AND CANVAS Goods sbowc with pleasure. Call and examine our stock beforeur chasiag elsewhere. October 26._ J. D. CRAM, E?tTABUSHEO 1s5g. FURNITURE DE?B AKI, St8^ 1?XJ8 TTTOULD THANK IIIS F Ri SN Diu d j fV the public generally for :i?e:r irai i patronage ?a the past, and hopes by low ces : and fair dealing te merita coutiu'-u-nce the i same. He bas received airead a large a::c ied 1 assortment of HOUSEHOLD JB^ xx 3L* xx ? % xx _2r> ! fer the Fall Trade, which weekly addms : are being made, and there ca:; be nd IN HIS WELL STOCKED ROOMS asea*. & display of FURNITURE OF ALL GR-ES as in the first-class city houses. H? has bough: his goods DI7.?GT DM i THE FACTORIES, at lowest prices to bad : and proposes to give his customers th-uil i benefit of his bargains. PARLOR SUITES. Wood and Marble-Top Bee Room Sai Bedsteads, Mauresses, Spring Beds. Chairs, Sideboards, Sofas, Leungs. Safes, Bureaus. Wasbstaads. Pictures, Picture Frames, Window Sl*s, ' and ail other articles su r>p?ie? br the furnre ! trade. ; ??ALSO, WINDOW GLASS AND PUTTY, j Call at his store and be convinced by ar- : sonai examination of gooi__ and prices .t these assertions are true. He * in showing customers around. THE UNDERTAKING DEPARTME^ | ?3 complete with a large number of stv?c?f CoSns and Caskets, from the smallest ?o? largest sizes made, and at as reasonable :>r; as the same can be bought any where. ? Calls promptly attended to" da.- or nh'h ' J. D. CRAIG i Oct 5_ FOR SALE. . MILK COWS ALWAYS ON HAND . B. Thomas, Wedgefield, S. C. lUIf CllIiwCIIv fris pape:, o? oo?ain est.rr.atg on advertising space when in Chicago, w?l find it cn file ai 45 to 49 ^??^ 55 St.J ? theAdVc.i^ns Asency of UM.D& THOMAS-. Koedinc renewed strength, or who suffer from ? l_Jlr_i-ic? peculiar to their sex. ?hould try B-5TTCN?& i ! } This sedicine combines Iron with pore ve?etabte tcsics, snd is mvakxable for Diseases pectniix to Wom?n- and all who lead sedentary lives. It En riches and Pnrifles tho Blood, Stimulates the Appetite, Strengthens the Muscles cna Nerves?in fact, thoroughly Invigorates* Cleare the compleiion, and makes the skin smooth, ?t dfes not b{acken the teeth, canse headache, or predace constipation?all other Iron mtdicinee do. ??__g^KnZaB-~ai BiXRD, 74 Farwell Ave.. M?w&n kea, ~'is., says, under date of Doc. 25th. 1864: ** Ihavo used Brown's Iron Bittere, and it has been more than, a doctor to me, having cured me of_tha weakness ladies ?ls,ts in life. Also cured me of Liv er Ootaplaint. and now my complexion is clear and good. Sas also been beneficial to my children.*' MRS. Lonsiv C. BbaGDOX. East Lockpcrt^N. Y., Bays: " I hari suffered untold misery from Female .Complaints, and could obtain relief from nothing except Brown's Iron Bitters." Genuine has above Trade Mark and crossed red linea oq wrapper. Ta_o no other. Made only by EEOWX CII?LSLICAL CO-, BALTIMORE, 24D. A FINE LORIDA TONIC! Mr. FOSTER S. CHAPBLftN, One of the landmarks of the Georgia Drug trade, now of Orlando, Florida, writes: "J can hardly select a single casc ?t the many others to when-; I have GULNN'S ' PIONEER 3L00D RE NEWER, but what, have been satis fied: and ? ?nc it the best remedy for a?? Skin Diseuses I have ever sold. and a Fine Florida Tonic. "FOSTER S. CHAPMAN. S'Oriando, Fia." A CERTAIN CURE FOR CATARRH ! A SUPERB Flesh Producer and Tonic! GUINN'S EIOXEKK SLOGO RKNEViTER Cures ail B?oo? and Skin Diseast-s. Rheuma tism, Scrofula. Old Sores. A perfect Spring Medicine. If not in your market it vril? be forwarded on receipt of price. Small bottles $1.00: large boules $1.75. Essay on Blood and Skin Diseases mailed free m ACON MEDICINE COMPANY. Macon. Georgia. For Salt; by Da. A. J. CHINA. July 13. Sur:: ter. S. C. FOR 1886-7. RETURNS F PERSONAL PROPERTY AND POLLS -.vili be received a: the following titees and places : Privateer, Tuesday, January 4th. Bloora Hill, id Manchester T?'?q ship. Wednesday; January otb. WedgeSeld. Thursday, January Gth. Statebsrg. Friday, January 7;b. Gordon's Mili. Friday,"January 7th. Maycsville, Monday, January l?ia. Magnolia, Tuesday, January 11th. ? Lyucbbarg, Wednesday,, January 12tn. Sbiloh, Thursday, January loth. Johnson's Store, Friday, January 14th. Scarborough's Store, Saturday, Jan uary 1 -" th. Kei?'s Mill. Monday, January 17ih. Bisbop ville, Tuesday and Wednes day, January iStL and 10th. Mann ville, Thursday. January 2Glb. Stc?tkx?Ue, Friday, January 21st. Mechacicsville. Saturday Jauuary 22od. Sanders' Depot, Wednesday, J*nu ary I9th. m. Sanders' foras er office, Thursday, January 20th. ?.:<b At the Auditor's office In Seuiier on all other days from ist of January to 20th Feb ruary, inclusive. Parties making Returns by mail or by an other jvrson will Mieascgire fuii first name of Tar-payer. ;-.::d the Township the property is in. Vv. R. DELGAR, Nov. 30. Auditor Sum ter Count'*. 1 X1?-j O ?J i.vl i sLiJT?j mm school FOR BOYS, Affording superior advantages in ENGLISH-, MATHEMATICS, and the CLASSICS, -.v?i? reopen ??NDAY. SEPTEMBER G, l?SG. L. W; DICK. ) A. C. McINTOSK, j TTJ7T?ON?From $^ ic-$5 per :: ;. BOARD?with the princip?is,-512 per :no. Fur further information apply to PRINCIPALS SUMTES Ht Gil SCHOOL, Lock i?ox No. ? :?. A?:g 3-v Sinner, S. C. THE TEMPERANCE WaSKER, A Live, Temperance Paper. Published S<.:;:i-r:.'.>:::V s?mter; s. o. Under tifc? Editoriul management of iiiiv. Ii. V. e ^. G."?r.c.r. or i.o.G.?. os s. Assisted by an able corps : Editors. Tl:e patronage and LnSne?ce ot nil friends ofTeioperance is solicited. Terms only t>0 cents a-yeiir. Tojidvertiser: desiring wl i-e Circulation, it offers au excellent odium On bt^iuess, adares? N. 0. ?STEEN. moment yet the actor stops, And looks around to say farewell. It is an irksome word ed task; And when he's laughed and seid bis say. He shows, as lie removes the mask, A face that's anything but gay. One word ere yet the evening ends,? I^ei'sclose il wi&a parting rhyme; And pledge a baud to all ycung friends; As iiu> the merry Christmas.time : On life's wide scene you, too. have parts That fate ere long shall bid you play; Good i??ht:?with honest, gentle hearts A kindly greeting go alway. Good ?iglit:?td say the griefs, the Soys, Just hinted in ihi< mimic page? The trnmiphs and defeat of boys Are but repeated in our age; I'd say your woes were not less keen. Your hopes mors vain than those of men; Your pangs or pleasures of fifteen At forty-five played o'er again. I'd say we suffer and we strive Not less nor more as men than boys; With grizzbd beards a: forty-five; "As erst at twelve in corduroys: And if, in time otsacred youth. We learned at home to love and pray. Pray Heaven that early love and truth 2lay never wholly pass away. And in the world, as in the school, Td say how fate may change and shift? The prize be sometimes with the fool. The race not always to the swift; .The strong may yield, the good may fall. The ?rreac mac be a vulgar clown? Tbe knave be lifted over ail. The kir.d east pitilessly down. Who knows the inscrutable design? Blessed oe He who took and gavel Why sliould your mother, Charles, not mino, l?e weep?n;:at her darling's grave? We bow to Heaven that willed it so. That darkly rules the fate of ali, Tha? s<-nds the respite or the blow, That's free to give or to recali. Tnis crowns Iiis feast with wine and wit. Who brought him to that mirth and state? ois betters; see. below him sit. Or hunger hopeless at the gate. Who hade the mud from Dives' wheel To spurn the rags of Lazarus? Come, brother, in that <iu?t we'll kneel. Confess::ig Heaven, that, ruled It thus. So each shall mourn; in life s advance, Dear hopes; dear friends; untimely killed; Shah grieve for many a forfeit chanco Anti longing passion nafuifdled. Ann-:::? whatever fate lie seat Pray ? the heart may kindly slow. Although the bea t with cares be beat And whitened with the waiter snow. Come wealth or want; come good or ill. Let oid and young accept their part. And br-A" oef?rs- !>!?? r.v. f-.-J vv??; And bear it with an i.-.aett heart. Who misses, or who whi? the prize, Go, lose or conquer, as ycu can; But if you faih or if you rise-. Be each, pray God, a gentleman. A gentleman, or oid or young! (Dear kihdiy with my humble lays) Tb-.- sacred chorus first was sung Upon the firs: of Christmas days; The shepherds heard i: overhead. The joyful an^r's raised it then; Glory to Heaven on high, it said. And peace on earth to gentle men.. >Jy song, save this. :s little worth; 1 lay trie weary, pen ?is:de, And wish you '. alth. and love and mirth, As fits the solemn Chris: mast ide,? As fits tiie holy Cnristinas birth. Be this. friends, our carol still Be peace on earth., be peace on earth. To men of gentle will. Willia?i ." - XaiCKtaAT. TUE HAPPIEST MOMENT. how it CaME to TI?E GUESTS C'f a CHRIST MAS pa til Y. Honor, aged 00, and her Aunt Margaret, aged 33 and uiiiJiarried.einaiuiair.ed them selves by keeping a morning school for young ladies in Paradise row, one of the back streets of Camden Town, London; which consists of ten mean little houses. Aunt Mar garet was the daughter of the rector of Bray ieigh. and Honor was her sisters child. The sister had married an artist, and she and" lier husband; both died when Honor was a mero baby. Her aunt and grandfather had edu cated her. Soon after tbe lector's death tao two ladies were impoverished by the failure of the bank which contained their little store of wealth. So the school was opened, and they got on fairly well, enjoy big their md? pendence,?although noi in receipt o? a very premising income. Honor had an uncle?her fathers 1--other? the rich Mr. Bryson, who, although he gave them no financial aid, always invited his niece and her aunt to spend the holidays at his house. As tho Christmas o? iiC2 drew near the two impoverished gentlewomen be gan to fix over thcir'bits of finery in the ex pectation of the usual n?s??, to Uncle Brysons. Instead of the .anticipated invitation, they re ceived & very polite note from Uncle B. say ing that ''the coming so far must have always been a tax upon them." and therefore he "would not again press the invitation.1' 11" softened the blow witls a chock for i'.::, his best wishes and the compliments of the sea son. There was a-reason "* this beyond what the_t-wo disappointed i;< lies could dream of. The Brysons had a raarriageabio daughter: and there was a certain Sir ivi .vnrd Dasart who, they thought, was about to :.:?<?]?.???? t-. lier, and Aunt Bryson had discovered tha? Sonor was much toohan-lsotr.*1 an 1 tttractivo t!0have around when such an important pos sibility was pending; andSir J?d v. u'd was tv Wea Christmas guest. Aunt Margaret had fondly dreamed that Sir Edward cared for SSOnor; whom had ipefc m ? ? than <>:;:.? at Whc?? Brysons; Bui. when she heard that he was about to promos- to L :u-j-- Brysoiis daughter A Mielia she, hoped thai Honor did r.ot care for him. The first impulse of Aunt Margaret and Honor on receiving Uncle Brysou's check was to send it back. Second though: persuaded Vue:m to keep it and use every penny of it in giviug te Christmas par*, y thenise.lves?not a jutrty for tbe ri- '.r a;;<I pr ?- > -ruus, ;:?/.?? evozj fortaeii ?nanria? equals; l ut a ? a;ty. for tbc gbod am"; kind amon?; t!.-v .??.?!.! < ,: >, the in habitants of fc*:u*a<Vise '- ?'?\ ?;:. ,*??!?. souls; to whom t?ii pleasures were . :;'??. They took Mr. T:. dmon !, the : ? mml-:;,; of ibe new church it; their district'-, ;:;'?* \'?,? r?ri deuce, ano he v.:?_?: greatly i?.?:??}????>;??:'. i:; rhc plan, and prourised to help rn he could. He v.-as :'{??? o?Iy friend th ? ? ivo ladit.-s tadmadesince they went to Baradi^ row to whom they could say anything :j1jouI tl?-ir jrast lives. He often l'.>olted in l- :< Uiyir: after their day's r/oj k was ?>???:?.?, r.-:d ;'? s: e:n.-i piali] to Aunt Margare; '..' ? ' '? .?. .-,:?, cr- at :?..? terest m Honor. S'jnvetimes .Aun! Margaret suid to hers- if that'thi! mate!) woa!<i not bo so ?iidusirabjo. lUgu be v.-a.- .?? vvidow?r^ with a grcAvn-up thtughtcr, a-td :v 'ittie U)o ?ld for H?in ?:. They had a busy time preparing for tc? feast. They f?t in duly bound u.-p-mi ev_ry penny of the money: In addition to the sup per; every guest was to have a. present, and several sick enes were to hav? presents sent them. They called in "Old Nanni.;" to help the inaici of all work got the feast ready, and, in her language; the house soon "smelt as good as a cook shop." Old Nannie was to be one of the guests of the Christmas party. She had been in charge of the guardians of the poor;: .but had managed to have her :"low anccs" sent to her lowly iodgingx. and never got into the dreaded '"house," where the poor arc taken in the last extremity. Among the oilier important guests were the 'little tailor and his wife," "Sally's grand ! mother/' "Johnny and his mother." and the ; "poor lodger." Sally's grandmother was in ; the receipt cf. parish relief. The -poor lodger," as the neighbors called him-, was a young man about whom no one knew any more than that he did not appear to have a friend in the world, and ihat he had been S? desperate need, having just-struggled through a long illness in an attic of a house whore lodged Johnny and his mother. The latter, a sailors widow, only just contrived to keep body and soul together by working for the city warehouses; and the little tailor and his wife got their living by patching and botch ing for people as poor as themselves. Although every one else jested about the little tailor and his wife clinging to the belief that they would again see their son, who had gone abroad to seek his fortune, and had not been beard of for years, Honor did not. The belief helped them to bear their privations better than they might otherwise have done, she thought. And there was Grace Fairlfe, the national school mistress, a gentlewoman, who had been quite alone in the world since her mother's death; and peer little Annie, the drunken cobblers daughter, and the good natured old soldier, with the bullet In his leg, who helped everybody. The ladies wore almost afraid they would be obliged to send a separate in vitation to the bullet, it was such an impor tant factor in the old man's life. Then, there was Mrs. Pamell, who was "genteel." They were uncertain whether she would come, for, although sue had now the recommendation of being poor and lonei3r, she prided herself upon having -once moved in a different sphere." She talked of her father having been an agent for something or somebody, and alluded to her late husband's 'avocations" in a way which, if slightly in definite, bad its effect in Paradise row. She thought a great deal about keeping up the "distinction of classes," and the proper ob servances of etiquette; and she told Aunt Margaret that .she had serious doubts as to whether she could call upon her and Honor, until shy heard they had a piano and taught Pre?en. Nobody refused, and by 5 o'clock on Christ mas afternoon they had everything prepared. It was cold Christmas weather, so the cur tains were drawn, a bright fire was burning in every room, chairs and couches, hired for the occasion from the broker round the corner, -wore plentiful, and Honor's piano forte at the further end of the sitting room opened ready for use. There was a certain fitness even in the hired furniture. The smail settee? for the little tailor and his wife: the faded, crimson easy chair?so fitting a j throne for gentility?for Mrs. rarnc-ii: the : big, high shouldered on?, so admirably ! adapted for the po^r lodger, who, rumor said, ? did not like to be looked at: the pretty little lounge full of dimples, with a stool at its feet, for Johnnie and his mother; the old fashioned one wiUrthe cushions for Nannie: and the straight backed one with the aims for the old soldier: they all seemed to have been specially designed to suit the diifercat idiosyncrades of the guests. I MKS. A 2 D? THJS EAST CHaTR. Mrs. ParneJ] was the first to arrive. She entered the room with a very grand air, and in fall dress, as it had benn in vogue some thirty years previously, wearing an elab orate turbai', hsad dress, an Adelaide colored satin gown, white gloves and a gold spangled fan, all a little faded and worn and soiled, but showing that Mrs. Pamell considered that she had come to an orthodox evening T>art3' and understood what was expected on such occasions. Honor hurriedly conducted her to the seat of honor, explaining that she felr, it so kind of her to come and help them entertain their guests, who were for the most part people in humble life. Mrs. Pamell looked rather disagreeably; sur prised and drew bersel* up a little haughtily fy.r moment. But she had only time to say that, although sue had not been accustomed \ to mix witfi her inferiors, she had no objec- : I tion to do so for once, and under the cirCurri- ; ? stane-'; of being invited to asrist in entertain- j j ing the good people, when, after a little seuf- j ! ??ii?g in the passage, the door opened, and, j i assisted by a friendly push from Sally, old j Nannie entered the room. To figure as une of the guests 'or whom she hud helped to prepar? was just atHrst loo much for cid ZST?nriie's philosophy. There was certainly a great contrast between Mrs. Par nell in her faded grandeur and Nannie in her short, scant, well worn merino gown, her plain muslin cap, her sleeves too short to cover h> v bony wrists and her bands bearing witness.to aIbfe of toil. Her only prepara tions for company seemed to have been that j of turijing down her cuffs, '.vbi?;h were usually ; turned :?p. putting on an old fashioned calar : with a friil rcwltmg to h?r thin sh?inders; j and pinned on awry, with a brooch o? Cani ! den Town emeralds and 'diamonds -purchased I tor her by Sally in honor o? The <.<v:,.-h>i,. So Tar aII.was going ?.?:? propitiously; and ! :;?/>????.? :? Wits NinVi.ie is?lw?ed i?ito her com- i f?rtal.J? chair by the fire in tbc bar!: room, I where she sat with a band plant--d upon each | knee, and h-r eyes tnrr:.ed coirip'aiv?.tlyto- ' \vard the w-dl spread table^than iTv* little \ tc?lo?' and his v. ife?:?.?-ili:, r of them md;-l; more ?han ir.? feet high - . ??:-.? ushered in. j Tb'- pi v->ty, ?air usire i school mist?vs*, in ? ? ??<?;.? : "?.:: :'.??^. was welcomed, ami u?'-r her ' ' ;t:.;.' J?..Vi?ny and bis mother. N?j -';;>? .?.?.? ??, ?? flunk -f raliba: heranyihir.;; If.::.-?, .di:.v*s ! moti.er. " VV;:h thorn --aj.-io !??? "\ ]'->\?? .** .?;:? ?:??:! not Kvi; c:?si!\ i-1-?..?--?-.I t?? : accep? tbe invitation, and who was 1<?"!.,:;;; very d - bt fa' mai reserved, . ?? ? on :?.?? d? fe?isiv-e. so\ > sx-T'.k. as though ?l.eir moiiVe .'..'.-.?.. ?,{ t 1; ?jViite civ'ar to l?lm. ?'.u? H<?n<.)?".?. diplomatie little ?? ??. v.hJeh ; han an ? - ?:? ; .<v well . |;?i tbc others, .?> ? -- : f'. sn<?'.?? ? ? with bim also; ; any rale, so far ^disarming his suspicions went, in replvb*.' bowed p.\v. \vjrh a tew nords abb>Li bisesti laatibn ??;* the privilege o? ?x-ing allowed V-> assist Miss '. '?. y--.<?: ili any way ;Ot: i;, was enough to show that he was :? gei il !--m;m. b;..; lie not. evidently weak as be was. and appre ciati-vt: of the voinfortable .-hair assigned t-> ' him, so courteously endeavored r ) ? I-?--! i r>'^ it in fayor of others. The threadbare < :?>?!!? ;; which., bung so Joose?j al>ouJ bis tali, guunt fraine contrasted pifceously witii bis dl.-<- ? tiiiguislied beaj'irig." At t.b?- worn- ti?no there wjvs no trace in his countenance. w}d< h v.*a? that of a refined thinker, of air. viee wb?rh might have brought him sod?w .?" ?he sc.-'-ia! fcal- aj tj dc-iirc 4j ?.y^cin tb-_* ' miserable attic of one o* the meanest houses in tbe street, where the most poverty j Stricken gave him tbe name of the "poor lodger." " The little tailor's.aside to his wife: ' Thein was swell clothes once, mother, and nothl ? will get the gentleman out of them any more than it ?.vili oat of him." showed that others thought as I did. Then came the old soldier, brisk and neat and upright as a soldier with a bullet in bis leg could bo expected to be. Everything .about him. from his clear, keen gray eyes to his carefully brushed and mended clothes and well polished boot1?, bearing witness to a hie v? discipline. By tbe hand be led Annie, the little motherless girl, whose father, the drunken cobbler, lived in the same house with him. He had done what he could for her in the way of adornment, brushing the beautiful golden hair and tying it up with a piece of string into a funny little knob at the i top of her bead, brightly polishing her poor, shabby boots, and presenting her with a gay pictured pocket handkerchief to carry in her hand ; and he had paid respect to the season by pinning a few holly berries in the front of her thin, worn frock. As they entered the room she bung back, clinging nervously to him, and looking as scaled as though site expected she was going to be beateli. Honor bad some difficulty in inducing her to loose her protectors hand and teke the stool provided for her in a warm comer near the fire. When she at length sat down she shrank timidly against the wali, as though only desirous to escape notice. Ail felt that little Annie needed sympathy and kindness more than did any guest there, if tbe soul was lo be kept much longer in tho great mournful eyes. Most pitiful of all was the old look in the pinched, white face. Suo seemed to roirard us with a kind of calm in dulgence, as grown-up children playing at life, (.?1 she had long seen tho sad real ity of. All weilt well, and with music and chatting tbe time was spent very happily until 9 o'clock. Then, before the queer company was seated around the table, Honor proposed that each one ro?ate the history of the hap piest moment of bis life. The happiest moment! There was a puz- ? zled,-half doubtful expression in some of the i faces as thought traveled back inte the past; j but it presently disappeared, and there was a I smile mere or less expansive upon everyone's j face. Even the poor bxiger had a reticent j smile upon his lips, as lie turned his eyes med- | itati vei}' toward the lire. Johnnie led olt'. He admitted without shame that the happiest moment of his life was v.-hen he bad been invited to the party, and Sally had assured him that there would bo ah the turkey, mince pie and pudding that he could eat. His mother blushed over bis very materialistic idea of happiness. Her own story was this: "I think the very hap piest moment I have ever had was when the manager at the warehouse promised to give me a shilling a dozen extra for making tho shirts, for," she added, icoking round with a | deprecatory little smile, as though to apolo- : gize for the homeliness of the cause of her I happy moment, ''growing boys are a'niost j always hungry." Mrs. Parnell. when called upon to relate her story, coughed meditatively behind her j fan for a moment or two, and then gracious- 1 ly said that tbe happiest moment of her life i was when she danced with Lord Langlar.d at ? the tenantry ball, when she was just IS. Grace Fairbe and Honor had some difficulty j in keeping their countenances as they ex- j changed glances. Sven the ''poor lodger' was evincing some sigi is of having once known ! how to laugh. But the others appeared suffi- | cient?y impressed to satisfy Mrs. Parnell, had I she had any misgivings upon the point. She ! was gazing complacently into tbe fire. She j bad simply related a fact, and was too much | absorbed in the pleasant recollections it had called up to notice any one's face. Oid Nannie- thought the greatest amount ; of bliss she ever experienced was when she outwitted the poor guardians and got her "'Icwanco out 'stead of going into the house." The. old soldier dcscrilied how a feeling that his mother w-ss near him pulling him awny ?rom a trench dining a battle, gave hire his happiest moment, i>ocause just as he was fairly out a shell burst in tbe trench and he knew that he had beer, saved from certain j death by the watchful spirit of his dead ! mother. "But why didn't you have another dream ? to tell you to put your leg out of tbe way i when the bullet was coming?" as.ced Johnnie, j :*I chose to take it into tbe way, my lad," somewhat absently replied James Brocks; 'besides, that did me no hurt." "Ko hurt to be shot?" "Well, my boy, there's different ways of being huit, as perhaps you'll find out as you get older. I'd had my lesson, you see. and didn't need to be taught over again/' "But ain't you going to teli us how you got the bullet in your leg.*" persisted Johnnie. "You didn't have that through tho dream?" "Well, I got shot while I was fetching out a young"? He paused, ruffling up his scanty hair. "But I am no hand at telling them sort of things. It isn't for me to say why - I'm a bit proud of the outlet I carry about with me, ladies and gentlemen. Perhaps il wiii be enough if I say that it brought- me this," touching the cross upon bis breast, and rather shyly adding: "It was a French offi cer that was saved, an only so::''?here he gazed afar off dreamily and cut short his story. The "poor lodger," when asked to toh his story, begged to be excused fora little longer, and gave way to Sail}', who, after some stammering, said, in high delight, glar.eing shyly round: 'It was inst night, then. He met me fetch ing the supper beer, and ho said, he'd got enough saved for a tidy bit of furniture, and a little put by for a rainy day. as '.veli as reg ular work, so there was no call to wait.'' Everybody congratular.-,-! Salir, and Aunt Margaret said that he ought to have been invited, at which, amidsi- a merry laugh from ail, Sally, with a very red ?-ice. .-aiti: ?' isn't so far elf as he couldn't be found by supper time, it' you please, ma'am. He said ? SO?nethh?g about being somewhere handy, to see if he could be of any use in bringing tip tbe trays and sue!: like." fil ^ f? I^L l\M:% ihk !.<?:.?; Ars:-;:.-; sore at ;ns m.-.tuuus | FT. et. j Ti-..- litri? tailor. Mr. Peebles, was Then ? ea'l-d upon t-> !;: : story. "Wei], ir' i ? must, 1 must." be said: "but f'm it j . .i:bm?:kr-rb.Mi-d^nsa bit vain when i Ml j i :??? ?o ;..?. -.; s- -st ;;.? :;?.-f.f wa> ! lia; .;.,:.'? wh :?. wo was 'ser.-.aging' tose?; the : wnuiiuii-'U-..' and su? suid <uv\l soon.-: a ? deai :?.i\> < . ? lak- care of i<- " than St.ev*i i ?acuso!:: tor L-iurve was well to d > in tin* ; work! .<?: up toi- himself, with a borse :?:?: . Cartd.i?d. rdi .'oinp.iet?.-, m t-? ?- ;?.? ? vi: grocery j l?ii?; .?: ?o. ..>:> :? u'ian. ?.? wnsa betr^ i rigare, j o? a man ' ? !<*.?;. ai. too, for it's 1??? usu ;>? ; Irving to make belirveas ! was eve: so han. | SUM':; as she ' bought me." Mrs. IV? bas. was next lo sperm; 1 Jii-' ;> Sa dy beckoned Rokot onr-o? the ? !.?-.? . aiid when sl.o re-entered, wid<-!> she I .p..! ?? '.1rs '.?.?:.?!>?- began lo talk, fitere i was a if "i: hi " face u ibng that soiuethsng ? ;.,.:?,.,:.?.. had happened; Sie-mit her hand on i r,h' :?.? ?:.?? a dini'.vas ifLto Aeady herself, aiul i sain : "Mrs !'ecb;es,;I tinnir there issoi.icbody \ her?' vvbo ? an ' < il your story lor you." 'Ph.. :;::',? ..;?!: ;? rose. will-, his eyes shifting ! f>< his 1:end und bis faceras whitens tho .!...??,-! Mrs. Pei-iiles gasped, hut could not :?.'<. u>c led following Honor into the room ? ?.?.*' '-.?.,,; looking vonna Ulan with ' frank blue eyes, brown Ipar?i and bronzed face?their own Tom. the long hoped for. long absent son, who had returned on Christ inas night, exactly as absent sons frequently do in boo?cs. but very rarely in real life. He fell on hin knees l>efore Mrs. Peebles, sobbing in her lap, while the little tailor was wildly shaking hands with everybody. The happi est moment had romo for all three of the Peebles family. Their . . cry had told itself. Grace Fairiie, the little schoolmistress, said: "I am obliged to acknowledge that I ow<- the happiest moments 1 have ever expe rienced to the receipt of a letter that came to me one da}' when ? was terribly in need of the help it brought." Over the poor lodger s face stole an expression of almost angelic joy. but only Aunt Margaret noticeli it. SAD faced little 2. Tber. tbey ail turned zo little Annie?feeble, prematurely old, sad faced little Annie?who sat gazing refiectiveiy into the fire and then said: "i 'member once rather said he would give me a worse hiding than ever when he cime home, 'cau>e ? waited for him outside the public, and when he come he fell asleep and forgot to give it me. If that will do, miss?" Little Annie! Poor little Annie! How could she know that this story which she told so simply in so few words was the most pa thetic that had ever been written? Then it was Honors turn to talk. Shehad just begun her story?a fairy story?when, glancing up, her face expressed astonishment, cciifusion and happiness, all in an instant. There, standing in the door, unannounced, was Sir Edward Dusart. Anyone who un derstood the language of faces would know at once by a glar.ee at Honor's that her happiest moment had come; that her story, too, had told itself, for only one thing could have brought- Sir Edward Dusart to her from Uncle Bryson's on that Christmas night. And wasn't it curious that the scheming of the Brysons to keen him ?rom again meeting Honor had brought about tho very thing they had tried to prevent? And isn't it al ways so? Behind Sir Edward came Mr. Red mond, who. after greeting everybody, said something to Aunt Margaret which seemed to make her face radiant and caused her to tell the story of her happiest moment with her eyes only. She it was, not Honor, who had been the cause of ids visits there, and in the fewest words possible on that Christmas night he mace this plain to her; and later, when addressing a few words of good will and good wishes to ail before the curios company rose from the table, he said this was one of the happiest moments of his life. But just after he and Sir Edward had be come one of the company, Mr. "Williams, the poor lodger, was seen making his way toward the door holding his handkerchief up to bis face. He was telling Sally to excuse him her mistress, as a sudden attack of neuralgia obliged hun to leave rather abruptly, when Sir Edward Dusart caught sight of him, and calied out: "Elston! is it? Why, Elsten, old fellow, where on earth have you sprung from:" The poor lodger utoved on toward the door, making no answer. Sir Edward sprang after him, and with his arm around his r.eek, scheoi boy fashion, went with him into the hall. YY hen they both returned Sir Edward introduced the poor lodger as tho best friend he ever had, and one of the best scholars of his own university. The little company was greatly astonished to learn that he wasn't Mr. Vv'illiams at all, but Mr. Elston; but they were still more astonished some weeks later when they learned that he and Grace Fairbe were married?they became engaged that very night, and were married a? soon as he was established as a lawyer. So his story, also, was not told, but told itself. The little tailor and his wife are as happy as they could desire. Mrs. Pamoli is better off now, and with Lady Dusart for her friend, more ''genteel" and exeluM've than ever. "When any one refers to that memor- j able Christmas night she says there is an. ? advantage to be derived from an occasional i mixture of classes. James Brooks, the old soldier, is in receipt of a pension, which, finds I its way to him, he imagines, fron; France, ! and is a frequent visitor at the hall, where j Sir Edward and Lad}' Dusart are always | glad to welcome him, and to the Rectory. & \ mile away, where Mr. Redmond and Aunt ' Margaret are host and hostess. There ?s a j pretty cottage ?n the village, of which j Johnnie's mother is the mistress. There old J??timVs last days were spent in comfort. ! Johnnie became a sailor lad: but after some: j years of seafaring, came home and "settled I down" in. the village with bis mother. Poor ? little Annie. Not a;! the love and care of her | kind friends could keep her lon?; with them. ! The tired iitf io soirit fled earl\' from a '.vorld j which it found too cruel to linger in. M. IsewvaX. < _ft-? /?^i^-^v-' "'. ???;? \ iV>:-V.'?~ vV/7 1 ,?V; >n and --art'; i::n^ au*?. M; T??rcf" Viikv?s- on tn?i rir.nt Christmas .'' i :.r;i :? ?_:? VY'hob God created man lb: commanded Mis au :? is to vi. it Hb:"-. ? '. earl?i u.\ i guiU?? Irin: in bi.: wavs, so {.hat be might bave a fore man ...?. :ght afte:- s ?:? sani j *.\a i.? lue place of ( ?.?.-? in beavo:!, and ; ; row mg greeny of -.vorldlv fruits? bc'm }>> '-jUanvl with ins ueic:::i':s for the p-?ssts..; ; ci l.]w%?u; and theguardianan els v.. p< among thenajclce*; p,::? n?y>n ibestrOng o;^v.vss.*d Ilm w.-ak and : io": from ?hem by torce to<- product of tir io;'.. .Tusiii'o r->s.! up sorrowing, and, ?caying -a;*-ir. ?b*w back t;> heave:'.. And when the v.eak over?ame ilio strong 'wich treachery and dereit, u:id ;:??'. from !??? by cunning what :>.??>' tcarcd Jt> take I y force. Trulli rose up so?ro'wdug. and.? caving earth, ilew back to i'i-aven. Avid when the injured wont forth to sia their mjurcrs, and crimsoned tho piaiti wiih -\y ir brothers' blood, Peace rose up sorroutng, end, having tho earth, fiew back to heaven. Tat's ca.cb bad act scared some good angel from the world, until Forgiveness, tho most boautifuVdf ad. alone remained bebind. And when she heard Anger and Revenge whisper darb. d:,edj in m?iXo ears, and counsel them to repeat that bad been done to then:, she rose up sorrowing and said: "I wiil nor leave tbe earth. While my sister angels wore here I might have rested in my Fathers Wosom. for man needed mo not; but now that they have fled, 1 will seek to ma':..- man listen to my voice, telling him that as he cherished forgiveness here, so that f:-rgiveness will cherish himhereaftcr." At that moment a new and most beautiful star blateri in the heavens. It was tho star of Berhlefcen? l'oh??iijg it Forgiveness said, "Conoid, the light of tbe world. It shiuee as a promise that I will ever dwell upim the i-arth." And I*eace and Lo ve, re penting, f?ew back and havo never smec loft tbe ecrih. So the loveliest angeh; of heaven came honie to the world on the iirst Christ mas morning. A MOTHER'S XMAS STORY. Mother and I were sitting by the fire on Christmas night. Twenty happy years we had sjvent together, almost alone, for father died before I knew him: and we had never been rich, and were perhaps a little selfish, for we loved each other so heartily that we could scarcely sparo timo fror:? each other for the few of cur own class whom wo came ; across*, who being better off than ourselves, and holding themselves rather higher, seldom ; seemed to need our help or sympathy. Wo had plenty of poorer neighbors whom we loved and who loved us, but they in no way interfered between us or mado tho happiness wo felt in being together less complete. It was only in the hist year that a new strong interest had come into our lives, and this Harry brought; and on 2iew Year s day he and I were to be married. From the first moment when he brought me home to mother, having picked me up from the muddy pave ment, where I had fallen bruised and helpless in the midst of a crowd, she seemed to take him into her heart, and never from that day did she let one jealous feeling como between her and me. Of course, she was to live wich us; even Hairy could not have made a home for me without her, and the only thing she ever did which for the moment we thought hard, was when, a week before, she had in sisted ou Harry s going home for Christmas. "Go to your father and mother, Harry, ar.d leave Janet with me," she said. "You and she hope to be together all your lives; givo us ? old folks one more chance of feeling you all j our own." And Harrv. with a look at nie to see what I thought, ha. agreed. "COME AND SIT h'EIUi, JANXTv' S* that Christmas evening Mother and I ; were alone There had been something in 1 mothers manner ali day which I con id not not understand. She seemed to have some thing on her mind. She was loving and ten der to mc, so tender that I thought that no one had ever had a mother i ike mine, and yet sometimes when I spoke to her she scarcely heard me. But we had a quiet, happy day? we always were happy together?and late in the evening mother sat down in her chair by the fire and said: "Come and sit here. Janet, on your little stool, and put your head on my knee, I have a story to tell you tonight. "A story, mother dear? Ok, that is lovely, like being a child again?" "It is a true story, Janet, of your life and mine I have never oared to teli is to you be fore, but I am not afraid now?my child and I have loved each other all these years?no, I am not afraid." ?*What could you be afraid of, dear mother "You shall hear and judge," she said, put- j ting her hands on my head, and then she be- j gam "YFhen was ycuug, younger than you are, i was engaged to be married. My home was verjr unhappy, and when Andrew West ern came and asked rno to marry him I was ready to revere the ground ho trod upon, f?e had been coming backward sad forward to our house for somo timo on business with my father, and I believe that from tho very first day he saw my misery. Wo were?and to my remembrance always had been?poor, bat if I had boeri a boy my father would, have possessed thousands a year. I never wondered that co haled ?nt-, that my mother mourned ! and fretted from morning till night; they bad | brought me up to feel guilty of a erime, and | I did feel it in my inmost heart. It was no marvel that, when And row asked mc- to marry him, I looked upon him as an angel ot deliv erance. I loved him wirb an iritensit;,' which amazed and frightened him. It was in vain he tried to make mc sol>cr and reasonable. It was in vain be told mc ihat sueh worship was wrong and foolish, that it gave him no happi ness, while to me it must bring disappoint ment. I could not listen, and at last i wear ied him. He said little abont it after awhile, but he went away, and once more my life was desolate. Ho saia he would come back, but j he never did. He* wrote to me often, kind. : tender letters, but they chilled my heart; and. then one day he wrote to toil me that it must beali over between as: He Told me bow he had striven to bold fast by bis oid love forme, but be c'v.ld not; the mere eiTort pained, him, the thought of my passionate devotion tilled inn: with dread. He could never return such love, bo could never endure to have it lav ished upon, bini; once for ail ho would give i: adoa'.h blow; when his .letter reached mo he should l>o married. "I had another lover them Janet, and I al most ?ntoci him, but before many weeks were over 1 became his wife. lie loved nie always, but we quarreled. ? could not pretend to lv.-e bini, and "he grew reckless; our home was miserable, ami within a year bo died, i was too id to know what happened for long time after thai. Strange faces passed before me, strango voices spoke kindly wwds of pity, and once every day it seemed to me that Andrew came and stood by my bed. When at last I woke to reason ngain. you. were be- ? side me. Oh, how I loved you! How pas- ! eionatrly ? loved you! You scorned to me to i Ik? ail the world, and you saved my life: "My husband lupi not loft p?o i:-, poverty. I j ha^t r.o need to work, and 1 spent my whole ; Jife,i:i watching ever you. 1 mad.- no friends, j for 1 cared for none. I forgot the misoriesof my father's heusc; I forgot :: } quarrels with my-husband: ? forgot even my love for An drew, ami was scarcely moved when i heard j that death had visited hi-, homo as w.-?? as mine, and that he was indeed desolare.-for his wifeiiad died and left him childless. Three happy years passed awa ahn- . without a cloud. Von grew ar.d throve. Every-day seemed to my delighted eyes toghe anew chana, a new beauty to my treasure; and then in live midst of my joy } ou ? ?! ill. Day a::.? night, night and day, watched by your bed?nay, Janet, give me no thanks; il was ? selfish love! It was nil invaia that doctor \ and nurse argue.I with me. would not \ leave yon. It was fever and must- run its : cours?, they said. If you should: recover, my strength would be needed when you could and call for me; but I wcuM not listen, and one night as I sat beside -ou all the room grew dark, and I knew no more. When I re covered I could rot rise from my bed, but I implored with passionate tears to be taken to you. Then some one came forward and sat ; down beside me and took my baud, and I saw j that it was Andrew. It gave me no surprise to see him there. I dimly remembered that I had seemed to see him before ? ben. I was ill, and for the moment h? presence calmed " 'Mary,' he eaid, in his old, quiet tone, 'if ycu do not do as roll you you ;viil die; andk what ii more, the child wi'l dio too.' "'[sprang up with a scream und struggled to go to you. * My child, my child;-1 cried, ' -.She is net ycttr child?she is mine,' he said, in that calm tone of truth which liad never failed io convince me, and which now pierced like a sword of ice into my heart 'Yss, sLa is mine! Listen.' ills quiet ores controlled me, his quiet words sslxlned me. 'When you were very ill, dying, they thought, my name was often on your lips, and ? hey ^covered and sent for mo. Or. the sanie day a child was born to caci: of us and ray wife and your child died. 'Wo might have hoped for her if her baby had lived,* said the doctor; ami I gave my child to you. Can you not boar what I have borner M0b, Janet, my child, his words wore heal ing, and the sorrow that from that hour I tried to bear was taken from me!" At first when mother ceased speaking, the world, and lore, and life seemed* to me to be blank and hollow, but in a few momento I rose from my seat and kneeled at her knees. "?b, mother, dear?my iatherr "He died long ago. Janet, do you k>VQ me?" "Then, as we kissed each-other I knew that in all our lives of happy love dear mother and I had never been *c near together. THE COMPLAINT OF SANTA CLAUS. lue snow lies deep on the frozen irround. And the Christinas n&ht u cold. And I shftre before- the rime sc hear? Can it be I an1, growjag old? Long ago when the Christmas chhnc-e yi&dit ?aarry thes tnidtifgrht When the caroler?" cali ?db-u houses and hall, And wassail und mirth rau high. When the harlequin mummers reeled ?cd dance^ And the great yufc los: biazed bright: When the wails wers grsen with, a summer sheen. In holly c Dd yew b*d bjh:.; When tbe faces of all, th:* young, the old. Were bricmntrr vnih sparkling eh^er? Aye, these ?vre the ibaes when ChrKtajascbiaee Wore the merriest sounds of tbs year: I snapped my ?hgers In Jack Frost's teeth. While the snow was wavering down, And the icicles hung from my beard I flung? 3iy beard that .vas then so brown: And I wrapped mysrfi in my grizzly coat, And lit my pipe with a coal From ??ee?a's crest, where I stopped to rest. On my way ?rom the Northern Pole. My reindeers-O, th ?y wer t brisk and gay? ?-?y sledge, it could stand e pull; My pack, tho' great, seemed a feather's weight, No matter how crammed and full I My heart it was stout in those good old days, ! And warm with an inward glee; For I thought of the mirths of a thousand heana, Where the little ones watched for me. So I gathered my sweets from far and near,v And I piled my eunnicgest toys (Unheeding the sxrirls;, for the innocent giris, And the rejt?ekjag, roguish boys. But the times have sobered and changed since then, My merriment flags forlorn: My beard ?s as white as on Christmas night Of old was the Glastoa thorn. Tho* my wrinfcled-up lips still hold the pipe, f No longer the smoke-wreath curls; Eut saddest to see, of sights for me? . * My frolicsome boys and girls Have grown so knowing, they dare to say? Those protesters wise and small? That all saints deceive, and theydon't belies In a Santa Claus at ?U: Ah, me! 'lisa fateful sound to hear; "Tis gall in my wassail cup; The darlings I've spoiled, so wrought fer cz? toiled. The children have given me up! My bean Is broken. break my pipe. And my tinkling team may go, And bury my sledge on the trackless edge Of the wastes of the Lapland snow. Hy useless pack I win rung away, And in Germany's forests hoar. ? ?' From on icy steep I will plunge leagues deep*, And never be heard of more. S Mahgaest j. Puestos? BEHAVIOR. Whot Constitutes Good T?reedJng?Tlj*. Choice cf Bridal C!fts. The sending of bridal gifts requires dis cretion and a knowledge of some points in volved. A card should always go with the gift, for if the presents are displayed the card is laid on the gift to which it Udongs, or placed with others on a card basket. In making choice of gifts it must be re membered 1 hat there are some a gentleman may not send to a bride. There ran be no catalogue of such things, but good sense will suggest whether ar.3' article is appropriate or not. For instance, would a pair of ivory backed hair brushes be appropriate? Most assuredly not. Indeed, it would be hardly appropriate for a man to send any article of wearing apparel, or anything that may be used with the toilet, though perhaps there might, in some cases, be exceptions to this rale, considering tho articles and the inti macy of the sender. Unless you are on terms of intimacy, or a relative, gifts should be chosen rather for their ornamental than their useful qualities. A vase or a picture is far more in taste from a comparative stranger than would be a table article or a piece of jewelry. These are ap propriate for relatives. Askiajr One to ltepeat. The conventional methods of asking c.:e to repeat what has been said and not heard seem to vary with the times. The eminently polite, method of saying, *I ??eg your pardon,7* has crept into use during the hist ten years. This means that you teg the speakers pardon for not having attende !. But if the speaker has spoken so indistinctly that no ordinary listener could catch, tho words, the speaker and not the listener should make the apology; The polite world has always been troubled to frame a proper method of askmg for a. repetition, without being s::ccw*ifu? ^WTtatr is too short and harsh. "How;" is execrable. The best method is to adopt the conventional method of tho times, which at least has the merit or enabling otte to. as similato and not be conspicuous for duTering from others. _ Withdrawing Backwards. In retiring from arcom after vfcntmgdsdies; the most common practice among well bred people seems to be to retire with the face towards tue persons in tho room until reach ing the door. But this is cuite inconvenient when the distance is long. A painful sight is to see a bashful man try to back out of a room and smash some delicate and valuable article hi doing so, from not having eyes in the back of his head. A hostess would iuf?mtcly. prefer to have a guest turn his back for a part of tho way to having her bric-a-brac demolished. Conform to OJfftors; After all true politeness consists inconform ing so Car as possiblo to the habits of others. Persons have been known, when silting atibo table with a host or a guest, to cat wiih tho knife rather than offend a companion by shewing a sttperior good breeding when tho companion used the knife in this manner. This is going a tritio too far, but the error is in the right direction. Nice CoSce Witaoat JJvr^r*. Make small sack of cheese cloth, put in smali tabtcspoonfui for each cup of coffee, need not tie the sack, put in the pot. and pour a pint of cold water on it. Set this en in the mOn ug and let it come to a boil, then fill up as you wish with hot water. Turn sack wrong side oat after breakfast, rinse and dry for next time. Salt and IVppcr. Mittens are knit Jersey pattern, alternate plain and seam stitch. Pick up cod fish it: good sized pieces, soak it, roll in Cour and fry in butter. Bitter tonics, as gamine, should be- taken half an hour before meals; iron, oils and e-id* after eating that they may bo digested with the food. Very pretty picture frames aro rn-uK simply cf rough pine boards giidod, ?a ' rougher the bettor. The London Caterer says tbjt game bird* should always be Uung by the neck and iiofc ? by the feet as is the common practix.